


Because of You

by sleepyvampira



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Chrollo dresses like a grunge edgelord sometimes, Depression, Drug Addiction, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Nostalgia, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Burn, even I don't know what this story will do to you tbh, hecc it might make me cry, this might make you cry, time jumps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyvampira/pseuds/sleepyvampira
Summary: "Up close, he truly did look like an Italian mafia leader who organized drug cartels for a living. Kurapika reveled in the fact that many people were wary of this man, and even treated him like some sort of problematic celebrity, since he wasn't exactly friendly with the police... but it was almost funny. In Kurapika's eyes, the guy merely seemed like an arrogant young adult who was going through his goth phase a bit too late."-Kurapika tells his husband Pairo the captivating story of his lover from many years back, Kuroro Lucifer.





	1. it began in the snow

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me at three in the morning while listening to lotsa old music and a few moody lana del rey songs in particular. I’ve been itching to post some of my kurokura that has been forever baking in the oven of Google Docs, buuut never found enough motivation… but here we have it. This will be as long as the story wants it to be (well, it won't be too long, but long enough :')). The more the story flows throughout my head, the more chapters it'll have. I have the basic plot and idea down, and new thoughts and additions come to me in small sparks; so please join me on this interesting adventure, and see where it leads us, will you? Happy reading! :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Up close, he truly did look like an Italian mafia leader who organized drug cartels for a living. Kurapika reveled in the fact that many people were wary of this man, and even treated him like some sort of problematic celebrity, since he wasn't exactly friendly with the police... but it was almost funny. In Kurapika's eyes, the guy merely seemed like an arrogant young adult who was going through his goth phase a bit too late."
> 
> -
> 
> Kurapika tells his husband Pairo the captivating story of his lover from many years back, Kuroro Lucifer.

 

_“Nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return.”_

_-unknown_

 

**_Yorknew City, June 2006_ **

 

With sleepy eyes, slow hands, and concentration bent from good intent, Pairo rummages through his spouse’s belongings in their shared closet. He’s been at this for a good chunk of time, you see. Kurapika works until around nine, and since it's only 8:45 PM, Pairo figures he can use that to his advantage to find what he's been looking for since two days prior.

 _I literally thought I saw it the other day. It’s in here, I know it is,_ he thinks, the frustration of the situation and the sleepiness that came with it nearly swallowing him whole. This item is not in the bathroom, in the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter. The closet was the one place he hadn’t checked, and now that he has finally begun looking through it, it has taken him much too long.

And then, after hours of nearly fruitless scavenging - he finds it.

He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and blinks in awe. It's a ruby red earring, cut in the shape of a small diamond. It hangs from a simple silver chain, and it astonishes Pairo that even after all of its years of being hidden away in storage, it looks brand-new. It glitters in the bright light emitting from the bedroom lamp, standing out proudly against his pale hand, and the brunette smiles. _He must look handsome with it on._ Surely, this time, Kurapika could explain where he got it; though Pairo doesn't want to pry. He's just curious as to why his husband, who lacked general fashion sense and a love for accessories, has an earring, of all things, kept away in the hellish depths of their now disorganized closet.

 _I’ll clean this up later_ , Pairo mentally notes. Kurapika likes things tidy and minimalistic - it's all of Pairo’s belongings that create a mass collection of unneeded items and clothes in their home.

He holds on gently to the mysterious jewel, and when he hears the jingling of keys and the front door opening, he slips it into his shirt pocket and steps into the living room to greet his husband.

“Pairo I’m ho-! Oh, hey. I thought you might’ve been in the shower,” Kurapika says, setting down a few grocery bags on the counter and pulling the other into a hug. “I went ahead and bought some things after work. I remembered to buy you the very _unhealthy_ ice cream you’ve been asking for.” The embrace ends rather quickly once the brunette pulls away and grins, ignoring Kurapika’s words and reaching into his shirt pocket to showcase his new favorite thing.

“Mm, well, I was in the bedroom... looking for this.” He responds. Kurapika can't do anything but gape at him and the earring.

“Where the hell did you find that?” He says, and eyes the jewel as if it were the one who had just opened its mouth and spoke. The sight of it triggers so many different memories at once, and his heart swells.

Pairo places it in his own palm and smiles. “The closet. I saw you with it once like, two years ago, and whenever I asked about it, you seemed kinda bothered, but...” Kurapika blinks, eyes wide. He hasn't worn the earring in nearly eleven years. Sure, he has definitely seen it since then and hid it, but over time, he truly forgot that he even still has the thing. Why is Pairo still hung up on it? And now, here it is, in his husband’s cute little hand.

_I don’t think I can escape the conversation this time._

So the two end up sitting on the couch, Pairo’s legs over Kurapika’s lap and a giddy smile on his face. Kurapika has to mirror that smile for only a fraction of a second, because he quickly realizes he’ll be talking about his past lover to his current one. He supposes that’s why he has avoided the subject for so long and hid the earring from Pairo - and himself, quite frankly - considering the fact that the brunette isn't always keen on discussing other lovers and separate experiences they both once had.

“Do you really, _really_ want to know?” Kurapika questions him, caressing the other’s shin slowly and averting his tired gaze. “It’s not even that interesting, I mean after all it’s-”

“Kurapika, we’re married. You’re my _husband._ I want to know everything I can possibly know about you, be it a story behind a small earring or whatever else it may be. Like I said to you when we first met - you’re an interesting person, and you don’t even realize it!” Pairo smiles. The blonde can't help but lift his gaze from their entangled legs and smile back.

“Okay, but it involves…” He pauses, unsure. Pairo raises his eyebrows and dips his head, gesturing for him to continue. Kurapika sighs. “...it involves my ex from back then.” He expects Pairo to frown, completely give up on the subject and go to bed, but nope. He simply smiles his reassuring, gentle smile once more and snuggles down deeper into the couch and relaxes his legs on the other’s. He hugs a pillow to his chest. “Okay, and? Kurapika, this was a long time ago. I don’t mind hearing about it.”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Absolutely?”

“Absolutely.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

“...you sure?”

“ _Kurapika._ ”

Kurapika chuckles. “Alright, fine.”

 _I don’t even remember a lot from back then, honestly,_ He thinks. So, he decides he will just make it short and sweet. It’s not like he _has_ to tell every juicy, dramatic detail. He'll mull over some fond memories, explain the earring, and go to bed. Simple as that.

 

**_Yorknew City, December 1994_ **

 

“Kurapika, how many times must I tell you? Smoking kills!” Melody scolded, plucking the cigarette from the blonde’s lips and snuffing it out. “I have a smoke-free policy, you know. You’re no exception.” The eighteen year old rubbed the back of his neck, and watched sleepily as his boss tossed the stick out and shook her head. “Ah, sorry Melody. Bad habit.” He said. He’d started smoking several months back before he and Leorio split up. That guy was more of a big drinker, but convinced Kurapika to “come on and try a yummy cancer stick, yeah?” despite his established disgust with the idea of it. Now cigs were just an outlet for his post-breakup depression and anxiety. He never realized how much Leorio changed him until he left him.

The blonde sat at the front counter of his current job at Melody’s music store, wringing his hands and letting his mind fly away with the tunes that played gently in the background.

Today’s song: Don’t Speak by No Doubt.

Kurapika snorted at the unfortunate fact that he related to the lyrics, sadly.

He instantly, and regretfully, missed the taste and the feeling of the cigarette between his lips. He didn’t know if he longed for it, or the person it reminded him of. He suddenly smiled, and if his sad thoughts had any emotions of their own, they would have been surprised or offended.

Kurapika lifted his head, pressed both of his palms down on the counter, and stood up straight. “Melody, I’ve made a decision. I’m going to quit smoking.”

The woman chuckled as she stocked some records and cassette tapes. “Mm. I’ll hold you accountable for that.” She said without looking at him, knowing that within a few weeks, she’d be taking a cig out of his hands and scolding him again.

Kurapika smiled at her fondly, but his attention was soon ripped away and brought to the broad window, where red and blue lights flashed about in the night. A police car sped down the street and to God-knows-where, the blaring sirens and the sudden shouting from folks outside causing Kurapika to grow rather anxious. Melody had a worrisome look on her face as she and Kurapika both observed the seemingly angry crowd of people and policemen that gathered across the street.

The two couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but Kurapika guessed that someone had been mugged or robbed, and the bastard that did it got away. Melody shook her head.

“I’d reckon that it’s that gang of no-goods again. They’re always pulling something…” She trailed off and turned from the window, continuing to stock her items. Kurapika couldn’t peel his eyes away from the scene. More policemen arrived, and at that point, countless people had come out of their respective homes and late jobs to entertain themselves with whatever crime had occurred.

The snow outside did anything but lighten up.  Kurapika wondered why these people would throw themselves into the bitter hands of winter instead of minding their own damn business.

 _I’m no better I suppose,_ he concluded, and decided that he had more productive things to be doing. Crime and policemen chasing down criminals seemed to become the new norm, but Kurapika resided in the fact that that kind of scene would never have much effect on his humdrum life.

About an hour later, Melody went home, and left the blond to close up shop for the night. He’d anticipated that her kind soul would allow him to get in his car first thing and hurry home to a cup of hot chocolate, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. He sighed, put on his coat, turned off the music, locked every door and cabinet in the shop and-

His pack of cigarettes was still on the counter.

He rubbed his face and head, sighing.

“As much as I’d love to drown in my misery and eventually die from putting you in my mouth,” He mumbled to himself - or well, the cigarettes - “I guess this is where we must attempt to part ways.” He grabbed the pack, put it in one of the cute shopping bags that the store provided, and tossed it into the trash can. Melody usually emptied any remaining trash when she arrived early in the mornings, so he knew he wouldn’t have to see it again.

He went home that night feeling rather proud of himself. If Leorio was truly out of his life, and if cigarettes were going to eventually ruin or kill him, he’d just have to find another remedy to his sadness.

 

The next morning in the music store, Kurapika was pleasantly surprised to see at least ten to fifteen different people holding the day’s newspaper. Typically, there were a few older adults in the store who were the only ones who bothered reading it, or maybe some elderly passerbys outside. Teenagers were more often than not prone to just looking at whatever band poster was on the window that day, and disregarding the newspaper entirely. Melody had approved for a newspaper rack to be set up outside of her shop, and Kurapika thought, _what a grand decision that was, given the fact that more people show up to this place now._

He had observed that whatever topic was normally on the front page of the newspaper must sometimes be so intriguing that those who take one always seem to subconsciously guide themselves into their store. They linger around for awhile, read the articles, glance around the shop, and nine times out of ten (depending on the age of said person, as demographics play a big part in this cycle) they will usually end up either purchasing something, or showing mild interest in a record or some shit. Then the cycle repeats itself. He also took into account that this was probably just because the days in Yorknew were always cold, clearly more so in wintertime, and any person would find solace in escaping the temperature if it meant warmth and good music playing in the background.

And yummy gossip on the frontpage of a newspaper.

And today’s yummy gossip centered on Yorknew’s very own, one and only gang of young adult drug lords, bullies, and “badasses.”

Okay, they weren’t necessarily _ruthless_ , but they always seemed to be doing some kind of drug deal, robbery, and the occasional public display of violence. And Kurapika despised it.

He despised how these people seemed to have nothing better to do with their lives. They didn’t help others, serve others, care for others - just themselves. He truly did care about the safety of his home city, and hoped that one day those delinquents would be locked up for good. Sure, they didn’t use guns, hurt elderly people and children, or kill anyone. But they did enough to where it struck tension throughout the community Kurapika was in, and to him, they made it look as if the city had barely any pride; Even though he knew it did. It wasn’t about how the city looked, for Kurapika wasn’t shallow. It was how its people _represented_ it.

Kurapika snagged a stray newspaper that had been left by someone, and furrowed his eyebrows. The bold headline read:

 

**‘Member of local gang is bailed out of jail, another is thrown in hours later.’**

Kurapika squinted, shaking his head in disbelief. He continued on to the article:

 

_‘Only hours after twenty-two year old Kuroro Lucifer was bailed out of jail, which was because of an allegedly false accusation of illegal drug dealing, his fellow associate and partner twenty-seven year old Uvogin was pursued and arrested at eight-fifty-three PM Tuesday evening…’_

 

Kurapika blinked. “This was just last night…” He whispered to himself. _This guy was definitely who the police were chasing after._

 

_‘...The police have reported that this man had drunkenly attempted to fight with an officer, and then suddenly attacked him and nearly beat him half to death near Orion Boulevard.’_

 

“That’s right around the corner.” Kurapika said out loud. People looked at him, but he kept reading.

 

‘ _Other bystanders and policemen were injured in this incident, but thankfully, no one was killed. This community asks itself: Will the malicious work of this gang continue? Will they ever be taken care of properly? Many questions are being asked. “It’s getting out of hand,” says twenty year old Pokkle, a bystander at the chaotic scene, “and I think everyone’s main concern is who bailed that Lucifer dude out, and if they will do the same for his partner now…”_

 

Kurapika didn’t bother reading the rest, and neglected to take a look at the two pictures that were beside and below the article. He tossed the paper, which someone picked up immediately, and folded his arms with a sigh.

“Makes ya wonder if any of the gang members bailed ‘im. I heard it was four- _thousand_ fucking dollars.” The loudness and familiarity of the sudden voice jerked Kurapika out of his tranquility, and his heart sank once he actually saw who it was.

“Why hello, Leorio!” He heard Melody say, as she emerged from her office in the back to greet the tall man with a side-hug. He had been speaking to someone else, a pretty woman with bright pink hair, and obviously hadn’t noticed the traumatized blond standing there. Melody didn’t either, apparently.

“Oi, Mel! How’s it going? Man, it’s be so long since I’ve been in this store, it’s…”

The rest of their conversation was soon a blur in Kurapika’s mind as he attempted to somehow hide away discreetly. He grabbed a magazine from the shelf behind him and lifted it to his face, ducking his head and pretending to rummage through the various items that surrounded him. His heart throbbed and hot jewels of sweat formed at his head. _Shit. Shit shit shit shi-_

“K...Kurapik...a?”

 _Please, not today. Not today,_ Kurapika begged for mercy. He inwardly cursed at himself for throwing away those damn cigarettes, because he really craved them at the moment. What a creature of habit he grew to be; And it was all thanks to the very man who said his name.

He sheepishly peered from his “hiding spot” and offered a surprisingly composed wave and a nod of acknowledgment. Leorio blinked, and tugged at the blue scarf around his neck. Kurapika bit his lip. _He’s nervous too._

“W-Wow I didn’t think you still worked here! I mean, wait, well, n-not that I came here just because I assumed you weren’t here it’s just, erm, ahaha-”

Leorio was interrupted by the pretty woman he was talking to.

“Gah, Leorio, can we please go now? My feet are getting quite tired, and remember,” Her voice lowered to a very sultry tone and she batted her eyelashes, “I promised you a little something later.”

Kurapika swallowed. So this was who he cheated on him with and dumped him for. Wonderful.

Melody cleared her throat, glancing between Kurapika’s sullen expression and Leorio’s flustered one. Never did she think that the once inseparable, and undeniably perfect couple would end up looking at each other in such a way.

“Um, well, we don’t want to keep you, Leorio. And…” She trailed off, glancing at the other female.

“Leroute.” The pink-haired woman answered with a tone that was a tad too sharp for Kurapika’s liking, though he and Melody both knew his could get _much_ sharper.

But before a scene could erupt, Melody gracefully smiled and ushered the two outside, giving her friendly goodbyes and then gladly showing her disdain for “Leroute” once they left. Leorio kept his eyes on Kurapika the whole time.

Melody walked back to him and clicked her tongue.

“Goodness, I’m so sorry Kurapika. That woman…”

“Is a royal bitch? Quite so. But, hey, all I can do is sit here and wait until one of them cheats on the other.” He replied. He tried to act like the incident didn’t bother him, but Melody could see that it did. She smiled, sympathy in her eyes.

“But, thank you, Melody. Had you not been standing there, I’m afraid my anger would have won me over and I might’ve decked both of them in the head.”

Melody patted him on the elbow lightly. (The height difference, you know.)

“Of course, Kurapika. Um, this sounds rather cliché, pardon me… but my heart tells me that you will come across someone better - much better! So for now, just breathe, and please,” She lowered her voice to a whisper and her smile widened. “Don’t smoke anymore.”

Kurapika grinned, which was a rare look for him. He considered himself lucky to be able to work for someone so compassionate and wonderful.

The eighteen-year-old pursed his lips, and plastered on a fake smile as a customer approached him with a walkman and a few cassette tapes. People came and went, and the magic of good music played through that cold, December morning.

The song that was currently playing: Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers, in the style of Michael Jackson.

 

The next evening, at around seven o’ clock, Kurapika had just finished helping a small boy with big brown eyes find a specific poster he wanted. “For my favorite teacher’s bithday,” he had said. “It’s his favorite band!”

After giving the boy his change and bidding him a good night, Kurapika wanted to finally sit down and think for the next two hours about his upcoming exams. It was an exhausting topic to dwell on, but there were worse thoughts he was trying to dodge at the moment. Melody had stepped into her small office to return an important phone call, so it was just himself, the music, and his wavering mind trying to decide on whether or not he would study hard for his calculus final first, or his advanced literature final, being that they were the only two he needed to take. He absentmindedly flipped through some magazines, and then the newspaper, again.

His eyes fell to the high-contrasted black and white pictures next to the article. One of them was of a few policemen arresting Uvo, and the other was of Kuroro Lucifer. He looked to be getting in a car with someone, and - was that some sort of smug smile on his face? Kurapika rolled his eyes heavenward and snorted. But, he had never actually seen many of the gang members before. Every so often he’d see two of them in particular walk by the shop with a cig in their mouths and an intimidating look in their eyes. He knew one of them, a female, had hot pink hair and the other, a male, had wispy black hair and was actually very short. But it was the first time he’d seen _these_ guys. They all appeared to be normal teenagers and young adults (save for the weird mafioso-Phantom-of-the-Opera-esque look that Kuroro appeared to be going for) and Kurapika almost laughed at how harmless they looked when being compared to the degrees of harm they actually inflicted.

But, again, he always told himself he definitely was not shallow. He’d rather look into someone’s actions than their appearance, and he had good reason to.

And so that’s why he really hated himself when his gaze kept getting drawn back to the picture of Kuroro.

“Oh my God,” He breathed out to no one in particular, but maybe himself for letting his sleep-deprived mind get the best of him.

“Everything alright? You just have thirty more minutes Kurapika, and then I’ll let you go.” Melody called from her office.

“I’m fine,” the irritated blond replied. “I just really, really hate breakups.” He whispered the last part sadly to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's obvious, but I guess just keep in mind that the present story will be written in, well, present-tense and the past story will be written in... wait for it... past-tense! Makes more sense to write it that way, considering 95.5% of this story is one big flashback. I originally had everything written in past-tense, but it kept bugging me and didn't feel right, so I went through and fixed it!


	2. jet black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite leader makes his grand appearance in this chapter, and so does Kurapika's sassiness.

 

“Oh, um, I think the icecream is melting.” Pairo says suddenly. Kurapika snaps out of his storytelling and whips around to face the groceries on the counter. “Shit!”

“Aye, language,” Pairo calls as his husband jumps from the couch to tend to the food he’d bought. He’s been telling the story for only fifteen minutes, and he’s pretty impressed with what he’s been able to dig up from his past. Though, he can’t help but feel kind of silly. Pairo only wants to know where the earring came from - not an entire melodrama from Kurapika’s angsty teenage years.

He excuses it with the thought that he probably just got so wrapped up in the memory, that he got carried away.

“Come on, love, I wanna hear more.” Pairo says softly. The man is, without a doubt, quite tired. But whenever he wants to know more about something, he’ll always make sure he will.

Kurapika places the icecream in the freezer as well as some of the other perishable foods, and smiles to himself.

 

* * *

 

“Kurapika, I’m so so so _so_ very sorry, but I need you here _now._ ” Melody’s muffled voice sounded like incoherent nonsense at first, and then when he actually registered what she said, the eighteen-year-old scowled and tossed his head back against his pillow. It was eight-thirty AM. On Friday. And it was supposed to be his day off.

“Melody, I- God, is Baise not doing anything or something? Just tell her to get her ass in gear and work if she wants to buy new lingerie so bad.” He croaked out, eyes still closed. He really had no desire to argue with Melody or find a way to get out of working, because he really cared for her and the job. She had given it to him when he was sixteen and struggling with numerous problems while being raised by an old family friend. He started working there right off the bat when he accepted the offer, filled out no application, and did little to no training when the other applicants had to. It was just… given to him out of sympathy from a helpful soul. So rarely, as someone who always remembered to show gratitude, did he ever try to oppose going in.

But he was tired as Hell, felt like Hell, and couldn’t stomach the thought of having to clean the snow off of his car and then _drive_ through it.

“Well, no. Baise is actually doing just great,” Melody responded. “It’s just- Um, excuse me sir, I already told you that we have a no-smoking policy-,” Her voice grew distant, and it seemed to tremble for a moment as she spoke to someone in the store. “Sir, I- Sorry, Kurapika. You’ll just have to come see for yourself. It’s urgent.” She hung up, and Kurapika pinched the bridge of his nose and savored just a few more seconds of rest. He tossed his phone to the other side of the bed, and made quite the effort to get up and ready for another long day.

 

Before Kurapika started his car, he covered his face with his hands and then squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. “Please don’t keep me there all day.” He prayed. He really hated to complain, and felt bad for feeling so annoyed. But good Lord, what was so urgent down there that he had to practically rip himself off of his bed and come in on one of the few days he asked to have off? Sure, it was winter break, but he still wanted to devote some of his time to studying. That’s just how he was.

Kurapika started the car, turned on the windshield wipers, and hummed along to the radio.

Five minutes of driving passed, and he hadn’t even pulled into the parking lot when he spotted a large mob of people yelling and chattering in front of the shop. He furrowed his eyebrows as he parked his car slowly, eyeing the crowd and trying to figure out why they were all standing outside of the building and not going _in_.

He hurriedly turned off the car, got out, and locked it, speed-walking around to the back door because he was in absolutely no mood to push through a bunch of people that early in the morning.

The warmth of the building greeted him kindly, and for a short moment, he forgot why he was feeling so irritated and restless. But when he stepped into the room, every ounce of annoyance in his body came right the hell back.

“Mel, what’s- what the hell?” He said as quietly as he could manage. There, in front of the counter, were eleven different individuals, all glaring Melody and Baise down - Kurapika too, now - and looking like they all wanted to start some sort of fight… and one of them was smoking. Behind them, the large crowd of teens and angry parents yelled and talked loudly amongst themselves. Someone was blocking the door, but at the moment, Kurapika paid it no mind.

He almost immediately recognized two of the individuals: the girl with pink hair and icy blue eyes, and the short dude with black hair that looked offended by everyone else’s existence. They were the ones who seemed to show their faces most often, and walked among everyone else like normal people. Kurapika gritted his teeth.

This was that stupid gang.

Baise leaned over to whisper into Kurapika’s ear.

“These guys came in like, not even twenty minutes after we opened up shop, and started demanding for a bunch of CDs and like thirteen CD players-” She paused as one of the men in the group glared at her, and she glared back. “-we kindly told them to wait, and that guy right there with the ponytail who won’t put his damn cigarette away was all like, ‘No, we can’t wait. We need them now,’ and that’s when he started smoking and Mel tried to calmly tell him to put it out.”

Kurapika closed his eyes and tried to remain calm. “Why didn’t you call the police? Surely you know who these guys are, right?” He asked, looking at Baise. She nodded, then smiled an apologetic smile and shrugged. “Of course I do. But, that one right there,” She pointed to a girl with short black hair and glasses, “actually apologized for the others’ behaviours and said that they, ‘didn’t mean any hostility towards us.’ The only problems are the damn smoker and that other dude over there. God, they’re creepy and annoying.”

Melody looked to Kurapika. “We called you in because we figured a third person could help handle this. And, as you can see, we have quite a few customers wanting to get in here today.”

“Angry ones.” Kurapika muttered, staring ahead at everyone.

“I mean, Hell, it’s almost Christmas. These druggies probably just wanna buy themselves some gifts since no one else will. Mm, I’m surprised you guys aren’t attempting to rob us.” Baise added with a smirk on her face. Another guy in the group with blonde hair and a hilarious lack of eyebrows called angrily, “Hey, watch your pretty little mouth or we _will_ rob y-”

“Is that a threat?” Baise fired back firmly. “Because if it is, you bet your ass I’ll call the police right now and you’ll get canned along with your brute friend who was thrown in the other night.”

Kurapika shot her a glare and folded his arms. The others outside continued to yell and complain.

“Enough,” He said. “Look, we have other customers waiting. In the cold. So please stop blocking the door and we’ll help you find the items you want.” The girl with pink hair nodded to a shorter guy - girl? No, definitely a guy - with shoulder-length gray hair by the door who obediently stepped back and opened the floodgates. In rushed the angry mob.

 _So you’ll only do the things you’re told if it’s from one of your little friends, huh?_ Kurapika wondered, his patience ticking. He took note that the boy was holding the doors closed with his own strength.

The man with the ponytail smirked, his hands on the counter and the stupid cig hanging from his lips. “You don’t get to tell us what to do, blondie.” He sneered, and leaned in close to Kurapika’s face, who simply sighed, stretched out his hand, and took the cigarette right out of his mouth before handing it to Baise. The guy stared at him, dumbfounded. An amused chuckle emitted from a strange looking man who stood by the pink-haired chick.

The music in the background played like a soundtrack to a movie.

“Really? Because I just did. You might be a rebellious gang but when you’re in this shop, you’re all just like everyone else. So act like it.” Kurapika snapped. Baise and Melody grinned at him proudly, and a couple of people applauded, which he ignored. But then the most pleasantly fake smile curled onto his lips as he looked each of them in the eye. “So, what kind of music are you guys into? Any albums in particular you wanted to check out? I can suggest some for you, if you’d like.” Irritance and disdain were a growing fire in his head.

The now angry man was ready to lunge forward when a loud woman called from the crowd, “I contacted the police and they’re almost here. You’re welcome!”

Immediately, the gang split, most of them dashing through the crowd and out of the front door while some had the audacity to use the back door that Kurapika came from. He should have locked it when he had the chance.

Kurapika inwardly cursed and shouted after them, but Melody placed a hand on his arm and shook her head. “It’s no use. Either the police will get them or they won’t. Let’s just continue on with our job, yeah?” She said quietly among the chaos. Kurapika looked down at her, and his gaze softened. “Yeah you’re right. You’re right.”

“Thank you for coming, Kurapika.” Melody and Baise smiled at him.

The police cars outside sped off in hot pursuit of the gang, and Kurapika tried to suppress his burning desire for a cigarette as he helped various customers.

 

People came and went, and business was booming until around seven-thirty. Kurapika eventually forgot how badly he wanted to return home, so he wasn’t necessarily mad that Baise got to leave early before he did. Something about having to pick up her boyfriend like she promised she would, or whatever. The night had slowed down, anyway.

Melody stood in front of the foggy window, hands folded behind her back and a proud smile on her face.

“That gang sure seems to be the reason we’ve had so many customers, don’t you think?” She joked, and Kurapika smiled. “Well that, and Christmas is right around the corner.” He replied. They both chuckled. “Oh, that too,” Melody’s smile faded away and she observed the streets a bit more. “Not all of them are too bad, this I know. The gang members, I mean,” she continued on, her lips forming into a thin line. “But, see I… I just wish they weren’t always so…”

Kurapika gladly helped her out. “Rambunctious? Inconsiderate?”

She pursed her lips in thought. “No… no not quite. It’s no doubt they can be inconsiderate and uncontrollable sometimes, as this morning was proof enough for that. But I just think they need…”

Kurapika tilted his head, arms crossed. “Need what?” He asked.

Melody shook her head, and trailed away from the subject.

“Ah, it’s nothing, I suppose. Well, I guess I might let you go early. It slowed down some, so let’s say that if there isn’t any activity in the next thirty minutes or so, you’re free to leave.”

Kurapika nodded. “I’ll go ahead and vacuum and clean here in just a minute.” He offered, still curious about Melody’s opinion on the gang, but let it go, nonetheless. The small woman smiled approvingly, and Kurapika watched as she disappeared into her office.

He leaned his head back against the wall, and became entangled in his own thoughts.

 _What those guys need is some sense knocked into their heads,_ he thought bitterly. But then he frowned once he realized that he did too, for many reasons. His mind traveled in a crazy, emotional route to Leorio. The unreliable source for happiness, and the most reliable for heartbreak. It pained Kurapika to think such things about the man, because for what would have been almost two years, he could look into those brown eyes and be overwhelmed with nothing but positive thoughts.

He thought Leorio hung the moon. He was dorky, loud, annoyingly funny and surprisingly bright sometimes. He was so incredible at what he did, studying for medical school and pushing himself to be the utmost best he could be. He listened to Kurapika and helped him, and never once, not _once_ did he choose anyone or anything else over their golden relationship.

Until he got drunk one too many times, on too many nights, and let temptation overtake him.

It became a habit. A terrible one. He started to falter with his studies, and seemed to prioritize drinking and partying over working and spending time with Kurapika. Now, Kurapika didn’t pass judgement on those who lived a fun lifestyle, for he had drinks every so often and didn’t mind having a bit of party time. But he soon learned that too much fun gets you so shit-faced that you can’t even live a decent life and call your boyfriend back to tell him you’re okay and coming home.

Leorio would always lie about that, drunk or not.

 _“I cccalled you multiple times, sweetheart, ehehe,”_ his words would always be slurred most of the time. _“I always do. Guess yer phone is shit then, eh?”_

Kurapika had thrown his brick of a phone against the wall and broke it after that very call.

For months on end it would keep on like that, and only got progressively worse. The puppy love and passion slowly faded, but not how it normally should, and Leorio eventually just stopped communicating with him altogether. Kurapika truly did want to make things work, and he hoped there was still a chance.

 _Hope,_ he clicked his tongue. _What a pathetic, useless thing._

So he stuck with Leorio, even through the empty small-talk and the fake laughs. The silent dinners and car rides. The pointless study sessions and one-sided attempts at conversing about their problems. He stuck through the whole damn thing, and it hit him like a truck when Leorio was the first to bluntly break it off and not him.

_It should have been me._

_“There’s someone else, isn’t there?”_ Kurapika had asked solemnly, face devoid of any trace of happiness and even anger. Just plain, empty sadness. He remembered Leorio falling quiet for a moment, and he knew. He just knew.

 _“I see.”_ Kurapika breathed. He didn’t have to look at Leorio to know that shame was written all over his face. That was the first time he’d ever shown Kurapika his sober, raw emotions without drinking or getting his feelings yanked out of him by the other.

And Kurapika hadn’t even bothered to look and see for himself.

 _“Get out of my house.”_ He said, chin trembling. Leorio’s eyes watered.

_“Kurapika, listen, I-”_

_“Get the fuck... Out of my house...”_

So Leorio did as he was told. He grabbed his belongings as quickly as he could, and walked out. He never came back, and never spoke to him until the other day in the shop.

Kurapika’s heart stung at the memory.

He looked at the clock. Ten minutes had passed.

He pushed himself off of the wall and retrieved the vacuum and other cleaning supplies, figuring he’d ward off his painful thoughts with a good cleaning. After all, that’s one thing that seemed to put him at ease the most. He needed for things to always be tidy.

 _Perhaps I’ll ease into the true neat freak I am and clean instead of smoke,_ he half-joked to himself.

So Kurapika cleaned. And cleaned. And waited. And cleaned. About six different songs played all the way through during that time, and he was surprised to see that only twenty minutes had passed when it felt like forty.

 _If we close at nine, then at least two or three more people should show up,_ he thought. Part of him just wanted to wrap up his cleaning, grab some food, and head home, but another part of him could have gone for some company besides Melody. She was still in her office, as she should have been. The woman was always busy and needed some time to gather herself.

Kurapika still hadn’t vacuumed, so he finished wiping and dusting the shelves and windows, then began. The machine was loud and nerve-wracking when mixed in with the music, but Kurapika could have cared less at the moment. It’s not like anyone was gonna come in soon, anyhow.

Then, while he was vacuuming, it was as if the universe read his thoughts and decided to completely contradict them.

“Are...ha...uh....uy...oo...ma...my...iends...ngry?”

Kurapika turned off the vacuum. Of course someone just _had_ to talk at that moment.

“What’d you say?” He called out to the voice, thinking maybe it was Melody.

“Are you perhaps the guy who made my friends angry?” The voice repeated. This time, Kurapika processed that it was a male, and Melody’s office door was closed.

Kurapika jerked his head around and nearly yelled, but he restrained himself.

“Wait… you’re him. In the gang, you’re-”

The man leaned against the doorway, and smiled.

“Kuroro Lucifer.”

Kurapika squinted his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. ‘Fuck your friends,’ maybe? Or just, ‘Fuck you _and_ your friends’? No, too hostile. He just met the guy, but he wasn’t exactly willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Plus, in all fairness, he was technically a customer, and so far, he wasn’t trying to steal anything or give Kurapika any strange drugs.

“Not yet, at least...” Kurapika accidentally said, loud enough for Kuroro to catch.

“Pardon?”

“N-Nothing, sorry.”

Kuroro was still and quiet for a moment, and then slowly made his way passed Kurapika and throughout the small store. His hands were in his pockets as he casually admired everything he looked at, even offering a small smile every several seconds. He bent down some to look at a record, then picked it up, flipping it over to its other side and reading whatever words were printed on it.

“Mondo Rock,” He spoke in a voice that sounded either impressed or simply observant, Kurapika wasn’t entirely sure. “It’s a shame they split three years ago. I haven’t listened to them in awhile, but I thoroughly enjoyed their sound when I did.”

Kurapika was almost fascinated.

Said blonde furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat, recollecting himself and folding his arms. His eyes followed the older man carefully. “Yeah, they’re decent.” He responded flatly. Kuroro ignored him as he put the record back where it was, and flipped through a few more. Kurapika took this time to size him up and study him a bit closely.

This Kuroro guy seemed to really love the color black, that was for sure. His hair was jet black and was slicked back neatly to just below his ears, with only a few short tufts of hair poking over his forehead. His turtleneck sweater was jet black. His pants were jet black, and his shoes were jet black. And then Kurapika finally noticed the cross that was tattooed on his forehead, which was also, and say it with me now - jet black. At least his weird earrings weren’t.

He really didn’t look like the posterboy for young gangs all over the world. Like, at all.

The guy seemed harmless, just like a few of the other gang members did. But just because he _seemed_ harmless, didn’t mean he was actually like that all the time. He just got out of jail, for crying out loud! _But wasn’t he framed, or something?_ Kurapika wondered, pursing his lips to the side and absentmindedly watching as Kuroro listened to some sample headphones.

Well, it didn’t matter, because this man and his rebellious little goons were known for stirring up trouble and robbing innocent people. They were trouble, whether all of them lived up to the reputation or not.

“This is a nice little store you have here.” Kuroro said, his eyes travelling over the store once more and finding Kurapika’s. His voice seemed so much louder than the music, and yet it was soft and melodious at the same time. At least he wasn’t yelling.

“If you’re thinking of stealing anything, you may as well give up that thought now.” Kurapika stated rather boldy, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. Kuroro almost looked surprised, but still kept that serene expression on his face, as if calmness was the only emotional state he was capable of being in.

But then he smirked. Kurapika huffed inwardly.

“I was only complimenting your work. And if you think I steal when other people are watching, you may as well give up that thought now.” He mocked Kurapika with the last sentence, and the blonde visibly grew irritated, which seemed to amuse the other. But, he had to keep his dignity and his confidence together. He’d get to leave in less than an hour, and that was the only thing keeping him from unravelling all of the day’s inconveniences on a stranger. A stranger who was also a criminal.

Kurapika didn’t respond at first. The man had a point. Did he feel bad for snapping at him and dodging the compliment? No. He felt bad for the people and police who had to deal with this guy’s shenanigans. But, nevertheless, he was a customer (once again, who was also a criminal) but Kurapika couldn’t let this night get any more agonizing than it already was.

He spoke up.

“You’re right, my mistake. Sorry sir,” - _sorry sir for jumping to conclusions in my head because, guess what, you’re a criminal!_ \- “But uh, if you’re looking to purchase anything, please do so quickly because we close at nine.” _If you’re looking to purchase anything, don’t, because I’d rather leave._ It was eight-thirty.

Kuroro looked at Kurapika as if he could see right through him and read him, like he was a big shard of glass with all of his thoughts painted on the surface for everyone to see. Kurapika tried not to show his discomfort as the man took his turn to size _him_ up now.

But as Kuroro was doing this, Kurapika really thought about him for a moment. Up close, he truly did look like an Italian mafia leader who organized drug cartels for a living. Kurapika reveled in the fact that many people were wary of this man, and even treated him like some sort of problematic celebrity, since he wasn't exactly friendly with the police... but it was almost funny. In Kurapika's eyes, the guy merely seemed like an arrogant young adult who was going through his goth phase a bit too late.

It was Kurapika’s turn to smirk. He had no reason to be intimidated by this man.

The sudden change in his expression alerted Kuroro out of his observations, and the two eyed each other as if a challenge had sparked between them.

“So? Anything you want to buy?” Kurapika inquired. Both of them had smirks now.

“As impressive as this store is,” Kuroro started, gaze staying levelled with the other’s, “I feel no desire to buy anything.” Kurapika nearly let his expression falter for a second, but he held his head high. “I only came here out of curiosity, and not curiosity for the store.”

The blonde allowed himself a small frown.

“And what might you mean by that?” He challenged. Kuroro’s smirk melted into more of a content smile now.

“First, let me ask you this again, since you were too starstruck to answer earlier: Are you perhaps the guy that made my friends angry?” He said.

Kurapika nodded immediately, since he now caught on to what this guy was talking about.

“I told your little friend tha-”

“You might be a rebellious gang, but when you’re in this shop, you’re all just like everyone else. So act like it.” He echoed Kurapika’s words from earlier, gaze now on the snow outside. He averted it back to the younger one shortly. “I believe those were your words?” It sounded like a question, but it was definitely a true statement.

“How awesome, you can memorize things.” Kurapika shot sarcastically, and Kuroro seemed to be growing more entertained by the second. The blonde distanced himself from the man, and pretended to sort through some CDs, now unbothered.

“Look, I’m really sorry you were rejected the role of The Phantom of the Opera,” He kept on, and the Phantom himself widened his grey eyes in pure amusement at the remark, “but you and your gang should take what I said seriously. You can cause all of the chaos you want out there in the city. I’d rather you didn’t, but I clearly am not as badass and edgy and stoned as all of you so I can’t do anything to stop you,” He walked around Kuroro and casually started to wipe the windows again. The man watched him intently as he still spoke.

“But what you guys will not do, and I mean _will not_ do, is come into Melody’s store and block the doors and act entitled to our shit, when you really aren’t. And feel free to not be bothered by anything I’m saying, since, you know, I’m supposed to fear you and you’re supposed to scare me or something-”

Kuroro couldn’t hide his grin.

“-but I know you’re listening, so listen up. This is our store. Ours. I’m sure you guys can contain yourselves in a small space such as this one. So tell your buddies that if they want to buy themselves shit from this place, they’re gonna have to do it just like everybody else does.”

Finito!

 _Okay,_ Kurapika thought, _I got that out of my system._

Kuroro kept his grin on, looking at the floor and back at the blonde thoughtfully. He tilted his head back and rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip.

“So my dear friends were correct about you.” He said. Kurapika barely spared him a glance, still making a show of cleaning. _Kuroro’s like this stain right here. He won’t budge._ He then kind of got into the wiping and rubbed vigorously against the glass.

Kuroro studied him for a moment, then slid his hands back into his pockets.

“If you want us to act like proper civilians in your store, then proper civilians we shall be.”

Kurapika stopped rubbing, then finally looked over at him.

Then, if Kurapika hadn’t felt mocked enough, he surely did when Kuroro closed his eyes and _fucking bowed._

Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden, one of Kurapika’s favorite bands, suddenly kicked in, and he felt unreasonably infuriated.

“Are you freaking serious right- hey!” Before the teen could fight with him, Kuroro quickly but gracefully dashed out of the door, causing the bell to chime, and escaped into the snow covered night. _He’s actually ridiculous,_ Kurapika thought, his head throbbing. _He’s actually very ridiculous!_

“Kurapika,” Melody’s sweet voice soon cut through the tension. “Why do you look so mad? You could have gone home, I mean nobody came in… at least I didn’t hear anyone come in.” She blinked at Kurapika’s obvious portrayal of moodiness, and shook her head.

“You know, we get rude customers so often, I’ve learned to shake them off and keep myself busy. You really ought to not let it get to you so much.” She said, giving him a half-smile.

He looked down at her with his hand sprawled over his throbbing head and the other on his hip.

 _Oh Melody,_ he tried to smile. _How I wish I could be like you._


	3. it can't rain all the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for brief talk of death, and depression in this chapter.

 

The bliss of rock and roll and the occasional Christmas song filtered throughout the atmosphere, and Kurapika was surprisingly in a better mood. He guessed maybe his spirits were lifted due to the brilliant increase in customers, or the fact that he would be reuniting with a couple of his greatest friends later that evening.

Perhaps it was both, really.

He smiled kindly as he checked out items for each customer, repeating the process of taking their money, handing their change back, and bidding them happy holidays. Though he was still unbelievably tired from getting home late after a fiasco in the McDonald’s drive-thru and the two hour study session he “treated” himself to, he still felt a sense of euphoria hanging around him all day long.

It was then that it finally dawned on him:

Kurapika was actually getting into the holiday spirit.

It was only December twelfth, but all that anyone ever talked about for two weeks was getting gifts for their loved ones, the new Christmas movies being released, and the glorious amount of snow that graced the pretty city of Yorknew. So he couldn’t help but be swept along with the cheer, despite the fact that it was strange to him that he felt that way. For some odd reason that Kurapika couldn’t really bring himself to decipher at the moment, he was feeling the exact opposite of what he used to.

The blond generally didn’t care about most holidays, or snow, or Christmas music for that matter. The holiday in general used to mean something else to him long ago, but now, he somehow felt excited about it for once.

The jubilant world around him somehow seemed to blur and grow quiet, his focus clearing over just one sight. He lifted his eyes and his edged, yet soft gaze swept over the scene outside of the large window before him. Across the street, children played and rough-housed with each other in the snow, while a homeless man sat on the corner of the sidewalk with his dogs, and a couple snuggled against each other, laughing with glee as they attempted to walk over a sheet of ice without falling.

Kurapika inhaled. Something sad and longing inside of his heart murmured.

He then glimpsed someone reading a book on a bench.

His happiness from just a minute before nearly disappeared, but before it could fall from his reach, he blocked away his thoughts. And as the teen exhaled his breath, reality drew back in with it, and everything around him felt alive again.

And then, his sights were met with something that was… kind of unsurprising, to say the least.

The bell chimed and Kurapika resisted the urge to roll his eyes as three of the gang members from the day before walked in. _Two of them are the ones that caused the most trouble,_ Kurapika observed. There was the cigarette dude with long brown hair, which was left down unlike the day prior, the blond with no eyebrows, and then Kurapika’s eyes flitted to the strange looking one with red hair that swept almost heavenward in gelled waves.

He also liked to wear makeup, it seemed.

Kurapika tilted his head, his resentful mindset and flurry of potential snarky remarks leaving his brain for a moment as he scrutinized them. Those guys were definitely intimidating to a degree, but something about their current demeanor and lack of attitude told Kurapika different.

The trio walked straight to him, no-brows being the only one to return the rude, disdainful stares that the other customers cast their way.

Kurapika settled a firm, but almost indifferent one of his own upon them, eyes levelled and observant as cigarette man stepped closer than the other two cared to. He fumbled his hands around in his pockets and failed to make eye contact with the younger man before him, seemingly agitated and hesitant, for some reason. The red-head looked at his long nails then closed his eyes, impatient, and no-brows clapped his long-haired friend on the back with an agitated groan.

“For the love of God, Nobu, is being nice for once really _that_ fuckin’ hard?” He grilled.

 _You’re one to talk!_ Kurapika thought incredulously. The red-head’s expression changed as he suddenly seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Nobu” clicked his tongue and shoved his friend’s hand off of him with a harsh jerk of his shoulder. He scowled, and finally looked to the younger with reluctance. It felt like an eternity before he finally mustered up some sort of courage to say what he needed to say.

“ _Sir_ , can we _please_ get thirteen CD players and three CDs?” He asked through gritted teeth and an obviously fake smile.

“It’s, _may_ we, not _can_ we. If this is your first attempt at being polite to someone other than Danchou, you may as well do it correctly, no?” The red-head quickly corrected with a faint smirk on his lips.

 _Seriously?_ Kurapika thought. Well, he had to commend them on their efforts to act nice. He had a suspicion as to why this guy was doing this, and he cast a painful smile that he felt obligated to give. Not that he wanted to give it. He still didn’t understand why these people weren’t in jail.

“Shut up! I- okay, fine, may we please get what we’re looking for?” Nobu repeated, hurriedly this time and clearly pained to even be there, conversing in such a way to someone who angered him. Kurapika breathed out a faint sigh, and said, “Of course. The CD players are all stocked next to the headphones, over there,” he pointed in direction, “and which specific CDs were you wanting?”

Nobu gladly made himself the one to retrieve the CD players, while the other two remained. The red-head now looked bored.

“Uhhhhhhhh,” No-brows drawled out for a second, eyes averting to the ceiling in deep thought. Kurapika could easily tell they were _not_ used to proper manners and human interaction. Two of them, anyway. “Oi, Nobu,” called the other blond, looking over his shoulder, “What was that one artist Kortopi is always goin’ on about?”

The annoyed man snorted and shrugged dismissively, thirteen medium-sized boxes balanced in his arms. “Hell if I know. Phinks, gimme a hand, will ya?” He replied. The man Kurapika now knew as Phinks ditched his previous task and grabbed some of the boxes, both men shooting the makeup-faced delinquent looks of annoyance. “Would it kill you to help?” Phinks threw out his free hand in a dramatic gesture, staring expectantly at the other.

The targeted man simply chuckled, crossing his arms.

“I was only given the task of accompanying you two and making sure you didn’t act like idiots. Frankly, watching you both struggle to carry boxes and not steal something is quite amusing,” He said, then feigned an overdone look of being impressed and clapped his hands. “Keep up the good work.” Pure satire oozed from his words. His comrades simply scoffed and rolled their eyes in response, setting the boxes down in front of Kurapika, who looked between each of them with his eyebrows raised. They still hadn’t answered his question, but okay.

“Oh, shit, right- uh okay,” Phinks started, also remembering the CDs they wanted, and ticked them off on his fingers, “So I know Machi wanted Spice Girls, Danchou wanted Beastie Boys,” Kurapika’s ears perked at the name of the band he once really, really liked, “Annnnnd I totally blanked on what Kortopi wanted. Honestly, he didn’t even directly ask me himself, Danchou suggested I get him something but he didn’t remind me of what, for some reason.”

“Let’s get him some old ass music from the forties or something, that’d be funny as hell.” Nobu quipped, and the two chuckled at the idea.

Kurapika was growing impatient, and so was Nails. He guessed his actual name was as interesting as his appearance.

“So, um, would that be all for you guys?” Kurapika questioned, and he began calculating the cost on the cash register. He had a growing paranoia that they would suddenly grab the items and bolt. If that were to be the case, it’d be just another reason for them to leave and go somewhere else other than Yorknew.

 _Do they all live on the streets?_ Kurapika stopped to wonder for a second. The thought that the gang probably had nice houses of their own somehow made him feel bitter and annoyed… even though feeling that way was actually quite unfair. Kurapika ignored the notion.

“Yeah, I guess.” Phinks responded, not bothering to look Kurapika in the eye.

Said man bagged their boxes and turned to the display of CDs to the right of him, fingering through each artist alphabetically. His finger swept across the S label, and almost immediately, he found Spice Girls.

And then, as he was looking through the B section, he’d forgotten they ran out of Beastie Boys CDs and hadn’t restocked them. He made note of it, and would tell Melody later.

“Looks like we’re out of Beastie Boys.” Kurapika said, and the Nobu sighed loudly.

“Well, guess we’ll just come back to get the rest another time, let’s go.” He said, trying to rush the trio, but Phinks held a hand up to his friend’s face to quiet him. “Geez, would you chill out and wait a second? We still need to pay.” Nobu’s eyebrows lifted then furrowed, and he tried to suppress a groan.

“R-Right…”

Kurapika had to chuckle just a bit, to which the trio cast dark looks at him.

He cleared his throat and let his smile drop.

“Right, so, your total will be forty-eight dollars, including the Holiday discount.” He said.

Nobu and Phinks exchanged glances, then they both looked at their friend, who simply held his hands up and smiled. “Like I said, I’m only here to supervise you children.”

“You don't have any spare change on you at all? I only have thirty dollars!” Phinks exclaimed, catching the attention of Melody and an already irritated Baise.

“And I didn’t bring any ‘cause I’m broke.” Nobu added unapologetically, shrugging his shoulders and looking off to the side.

“Hisoka, c’mon, you have cash and you know it.” Phinks gestured toward the red-head.

_So his name is interesting, afterall._

Hisoka rolled his golden eyes. “I don’t. Feel free to search me if you want, though.” He winked at the other two and smiled.

“Yeah, there’s no way in _Hell_ I’m doin’ that,” Phinks retorted, and turned to Kurapika almost sheepishly. “Erm, could you please keep all of this on hold? One of us will come back later with more money.”

“Not it.” Nobu mumbled.

“Yes, I can.” Kurapika replied slowly, setting the CD and the bagged boxes down next to his feet gently. He could hear Baise muttering something snarky to Melody, who giggled at whatever remark she made.

The trio stood there, awkwardly. Hisoka tossed Kurapika a weird smile, and the blond frowned in confusion.

Phinks was the first to break the awkward silence.

“Well, ah, we’ll be leaving now. Peace.”

Hisoka dipped his head and gestured for Phinks to continue.

“Oh, and um, thank you. I guess.” The man added under his breath. Nobu reluctantly thanked him too, and the posse was gone.

Kurapika shook his head in amazement. _So they’re inconsiderate and incompetent._

He watched the three men shuffle down the snow-covered sidewalk. He assumed they probably wouldn’t even come back to buy their things at all, and truthfully, he’d rather they didn’t.

But, as his gaze lingered on them, something _very_ strange occured.

Hisoka stopped. He let the other two, who seemed they could care less, walk ahead of him, and he smiled another odd smile as he turned on his heel and advanced toward the homeless man and his dogs. Kurapika’s eyes widened. _What is this guy doing?_

The blond moved out from behind his counter and over to the front door, readying himself to stomp out there in the cold and tell that bastard to leave the poor man lone, but he halted right in his tracks at the scene before him.

Hisoka reached into his coat pocket, pulled out some money, and handed it to the man.

Kurapika gaped.

The man accepted the money and said something to Hisoka, and they waved at each other as the strange one walked away with a smug smile on his face. He passed by Kurapika, who stood at the door of the shop, and he pulled a cheeky grin at the younger before striding off.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kurapika whispered to himself.

 

“Alright, Melody, I’m off!” Kurapika called, wrapping his velvet scarf around his neck and slipping his matching gloves on. Color coordination pleased him.

Melody craned her head back from her position in her chair and peered out of the office door to look at him.

“Okay, good work today Kurapika. Be safe out there!” She smiled.

“Thank you, Mel. I’ll be fine. Drive carefully, this snow won’t let up.” He responded, and they exchanged waves as Kurapika grabbed his car keys. “You know I’m a safe driver, Pika. Oh, what movie are you seeing, again?” The short woman added, and Kurapika had to think for a moment before answering.

He walked toward the back exit.

“Um, Killua wants to see this rather dark looking movie called The Crow. Whereas, Gon and I insisted we see a Christmas film, but to no avail.”

Melody chuckled and turned back to her desk. “Tell me all about it tomorrow!” She said, and Kurapika grinned as he left the store. Melody noticed his happy mood had remained with him all day. _Thank God._ He really needed to get out and see his friends. It would do him some good.

 

Kurapika arrived at the movie theater at 7 PM. He and his friends decided getting there fifteen minutes early would help, as there would be a lot of people. And, to his dismay, there were many.

He locked his car and covered his mouth with his gloved palms, breathing heavily to stir up some warmth for his face.

He remembered they specifically instructed him to wait in front of the ticket booth, and so he did. It made sense, seeing as the line was a mile long and someone at the very front was taking their sweet time buying a ticket, which pulled an impatient sigh out of the blond.

He hummed in thought, tilting his head toward the cloudy night sky.

_I could sure use a cigarette right about now._

Kurapika mentally kicked himself for throwing his pack out. It was the last one he had, and he had initially, of course, planned on dropping into the store to get another, but those plans were easily thwarted by his guilt and anger over the whole Leorio situation.

_Leorio._

The thought of him triggered yet another memory - a happier one, but it was sad, given that it would never happen again. He would often tag along with Kurapika and their mutual buddies to the movies, especially on wintery nights.

Though, Kurapika had really been more of a book lover. He liked movies, but reading… now reading was something of magic to him. _Was._ He found himself feeling the most emotionally balanced when he read literature, and even felt joy in reading newspaper articles and popular magazines.

But, like many things, that aspect of him soon carried away with the wind, once his body began to like the idea of cigarettes more. It served as a better means of escapism. And, on a daily basis, Kurapika’s mind and his body were at war over that very thought.

He smiled a grim smile to himself. Perhaps his lack of cigarettes was good, for the moment, anyway. His friends would definitely not hesitate to chastise him upon seeing the sight of one in his mouth.

“Speaking of friends…” He muttered to himself, looking from side-to-side. Where were they? It was only 7:05, but they needed all the time they could get. The line was five people shorter than it previously was, and Kurapika figured he’d go ahead and buy all three tickets if that’s what it came to.

A lot of people were waiting behind Kurapika now, and to pass the time, he did something he sometimes felt guilty for doing. He listened in on the various conversations behind and in front of him, not necessarily to snoop into other people’s lives, but so he could be distracted from the thought of his own for just a moment.

His ears latched onto the different topics and gossip that surrounded him. He decided he could no longer bear listening to a group of edgy seventh graders, so he focused on the smooth voice that came from directly behind him.

A voice that he kind of recognized.

“Yes, I’ll be back around, let’s see-” The voice paused, most likely on the phone. The guy was probably checking his watch. “Nine-thirty?”

The more the man spoke, the more it irked Kurapika, because although the voice wasn’t heavily familiar, he still felt as though he knew exactly who it belonged to. Turning around to face the person would be much too awkward, so he just settled on letting the voice sooth his anxiety and serve as a momentary distraction. What he was trying to distract himself from, he didn’t quite know. He didn’t _want_ to know. It lingered in the back of his head, and he wanted it to stay there, even if just for the night.

“Alright. Do tell everyone I said goodnight, incase they’re all asleep by the time I get there. Okay. Please calm down, I’ll behave myself. It’s just the movie theater, not the police station,”

The mystery man chuckled quietly, and Kurapika’s attention was certainly grabbed now.

“Talk to you later.”

The man ended his call, and Kurapika was trying really hard not to turn around. The line was getting shorter. It was almost his turn, and his friends still hadn’t arrived yet. He huffed out _another_ sigh, his breath materializing in the cold air before him. _I need a cigarette._ Then, part of him came up with a really random decision, while the other part of himself screamed at him for it, but he figured he’d go ahead and do it anyway. The irrational side of his brain itched for the holy sticks of death, and it overthroned any sense of self-respect he had left. He dared to turn around.

“Excuse me, sir, do you happen to have a ciiiii…” The end of his sentence drawled on and fell into nothingness when he came face-to-face with Kuroro Lucifer.

The raven-headed man smiled politely, albeit a bit surprised to see the younger again so soon. “Oh, why hello there.” He greeted. Kurapika squinted, a nervous smile plastered onto his face. He simply turned around. The last thing he needed was to speak with a freed drug-addict who was also pretty irritating, to say the least.

It was silent between them, for a moment.

“You were about to ask me for something.” Said Kuroro. Kurapika kept facing forward.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes, yes you were.”

“Nope.”

“If you say so.”

The blond caved in after two beats and whipped around, desperation in his whisper.

“Do you have a cigarette?”

Kuroro blinked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t smoke.” He replied.

_Well, it was worth a shot, but I have no other reason to speak with him. Time to turn around now._

Kurapika bit back an aggravated groan, not wanting to throw some sort of fit. And he did indeed turn around, his hands in his coat pockets and his face getting colder by the second.  He then realized the man was wearing all black again, save for the black and dark purple striped scarf around his neck. And the earrings.

 _Wait, he doesn’t smoke?_ Kurapika thought, and a baffled expression crossed his face as he took a step forward. Three more people to go, and he could buy the tickets.

_Maybe he dabbles in other kinds of drugs then, I presume._

Kuroro stepped forward as well.

“Are you here with anybody?” He asked innocently, probably just trying to make casual conversation. Kurapika inwardly scoffed. He wanted badly to say, ‘What’s it to you?’ but he controlled himself. Melody once told him that he needed to work on his people skills, especially when it came to those he barely knew or didn’t like being around. Constantly lashing out with rude remarks will get a person nowhere. But it wasn’t just that he didn’t like being around this man, it was also because he was obviously not the best person to walk the Earth… yet he wasn’t exactly the worst. He could have been a lot worse actually, and Kurapika was smart enough to take that into account. It was just all of the ideals and the lifestyle that followed him - Kurapika looked down upon them. It was reckless, careless, and it may be even some sort of twisted fun to he and the group of no-goods.

_Recklessness and carelessness lead you to cheat on your significant other._

Another mental kick. Negative thoughts begone.

_Killua, Gon, where the hell are you guys?_

Kurapika snapped out of the zone and looked over his shoulder for a split second, barely acknowledging that the other man spoke.

“Yeah, I’m meeting some friends.” He answered quickly.

Kuroro sighed. “Lucky you. None of mine could make it, unfortunately.” He said. Kurapika cocked an eyebrow. _How tragic._ He really didn’t care. But he hummed in response, to be nice, he supposed.

At last, it was Kurapika’s turn to buy tickets now.

“Three tickets for The Crow, please.” He said, handing the woman behind the glass a twenty and a five. She gave him two dollars in change, the tickets, and a cheerful smile. “Enjoy your movie!” She chirped.

He nodded and thanked the woman before walking into the theater, and Kuroro smiled.

 

“These are for two boys, Gon and Killua. Killua has white hair, Gon has spiky black hair. Should they come in, or if you see them outside, could you please tell them that Kurapika has their tickets already?” Kurapika himself asked the man who had checked the tickets then directed him to which hallway the movie would be playing in. “Absolutely.” He replied, and Kurapika thanked him before walking up to the concession counter.

Now came a decision he had to think hard and carefully on. He knew Killua would die for chocolate, and that Gon loved anything sweet. But Kurapika didn’t really know specifics. Or he just didn’t remember, maybe.

He pondered for a bit longer, then ordered the snacks he figured they’d want, and a drink for himself.

He then glimpsed a clock on the wall behind the busy theater staff. It was seven-twenty. The previews for the movie had been going for a few minutes now, so Kurapika felt relieved that they probably wouldn’t miss much of the actual movie once it started.

He walked into the right wing of the theater, found the correct room, and seated himself in one of the middle rows. Luckily, it wasn’t jam-packed with too many people, but a good-sized amount filtered in through the seemingly vast, dark room. Kurapika saved two seats beside him with his coat draped over them.

He became so immersed in the previews that played, that he barely noticed a certain gang leader walking by him.

“I can definitely see you’ve come with friends.” He joked upon seeing the lone blond, casting him a smirk as he turned around and seated himself at the very top right corner. Kurapika rolled his eyes and shook his head dismissively, taking a sip of the tea he bought.

 _Wait, he’s watching this movie too?_ Kurapika stopped drinking his tea and did a double take, which went unnoticed by Kuroro, at first. Then they made eye-contact, and the tattooed man wiggled his fingers at Kurapika, tranquil smile ever-present, as if to say, _“Yes, I’m here. Deal with it.”_

Kurapika turned around and shrugged. Whatever.

“Kurapika!” A raspy whisper of a voice, that was still strong with childlike glee, called to him. Kurapika turned to the side and was more than happy to be greeted with Gon’s excited face.

“Dude, be quiet,” came Killua’s quieter tone, who then grinned when he saw their older friend. “Yo.”

“Hello Gon, Killua,” He said as quietly as he could. “It’s really good to see you both.”

He gestured to the seats next to him, and the boys gladly sat down. Killua handed Kurapika’s coat back to him.

“It’s good to see you too. Oh, sorry we’re late. Gon couldn’t find his magical earmuffs and was hellbent on looking for them.” Killua explained. Gon leaned over to face the two of them, his face scrunched up and the earmuffs around his neck. “I never said they were magical! Aunt Mito gave these to me, so they’re extremely special, you see.” He responded to Killua’s teasing manner, who only smirked as the older of the three chuckled. He hadn’t hung out with them since the breakup. For a short while, it seemed to cause a riff in the group, but thankfully, Gon was the first to reach out and make plans.

“Oh,” Kurapika said, pulling out the snacks he bought. “I got you guys these.”

The boys took them happily, and Killua relished in the delectable sight of the chocolate.

“Gee, thanks, Kurapika!” Gon said, and the albino hushed him, again.

The three went quiet as the previews ended, and the movie began.

What began as a depressing film, grew to be rather dark and violent, and then almost two hours later, it ended just as depressing as it started. But it was left on a bittersweet note.

Kurapika was unaware of the silent tears that rolled down his cheeks when the credits began to roll.

“I told you that movie was going to be badass!” Killua excitedly said to Gon, whose big eyes watered.

“It was pretty cool and all, not gonna lie, but it was kinda sad...” He replied, sniffling. Killua laughed and poked his best friend’s forehead. “Of course you would say that.” He said. They both then looked to Kurapika, and Killua’s joyful face dropped.

“Hey, blondie, yoo-hoo,” Killua sang as he waved his hand in front of Kurapika’s awe-stricken face. He seemed to be in some sort of daydream. Killua folded his arms. “He won’t even respond to the one nickname he hates so much.” Gon then nodded, worried.

The one in question suddenly blinked up to the younger boys, looking between them with wide eyes. “Oh, were you guys saying something?” He asked. Faint tear stains could be seen on his cheeks, thanks to the white glint the movie screen provided. Killua and Gon looked at eachother with concern written all over their faces.

 

“Okay, Kurapika, the movie was not _that_ sad.” Killua confronted, leaning against the wall next to the boy’s bathroom entrance. Gon was taking forever in there.

Kurapika shifted uncomfortably and pushed a strand of golden hair behind his ear. The movie was _incredibly_ sad, at least to him. But there was another reason why it was so. Something else was upsetting Kurapika, and all three boys knew it. The sadness of the movie was only making this cursed feeling worse.

Kurapika tried to play it off.

“But of course it was!” He defended, hugging himself. He pretended to be struggling with the cold, even though they were inside. “Not to mention, that actor actually died in real life a year ago when he first began playing the role. That just makes it all the more tragic, wouldn’t you agree?”

Killua deadpanned, and then rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.

“Damn, I guess you have a point.” He said. “But, I’m not stupid. Kurapika, there’s something else messing with you, isn’t there?” His voice grew softer, more serious. Killua, being such a close friend of Kurapika’s, already had a feeling he knew what was troubling the eighteen-year-old. He just did not want to say it, nor did he have the place to. Maybe trying to get it out of him wasn’t such a grand idea, after all.

All he knew was that it wasn’t just Leorio that was haunting the poor man.

“I… I suppose. I don’t know, it could just be seasonal depression.” He echoed his own thought that he often had. It sounded like some sort of fleeting excuse in his head, but when he actually said it out loud and dwelled on it, he realized something. Seasonal depression can often stem from some sort of traumatic event that occurred during whatever specific time of year it was.

 _No, I do not want to think about this. I must change the subject._ He told himself.

Luckily, Gon came bounding out of the bathroom at that time, and grinned reassuringly at Kurapika when he saw him. He didn’t have his earmuffs with him, but no one spoke on it during the other concerns that were at hand. “Don’t worry Pika, we can go see a happier movie next time. And, you can be the one to choose!” He offered, and the taller one smiled down at him through saddened eyes.

“I apologize for being such a downer. It’s been awhile since I watched anything that...heartbreaking.” Kurapika admitted. Killua shrugged. “Eh, you’re fine. But, you have to admit, it kicked ass!” He exclaimed, and Gon laughed along as they both recited and reenacted their favorite lines and scenes from the movie.

Kurapika’s smile returned.

 

The boys ended up leaving shortly after because Killua was staying at Gon’s for awhile, which was quite a drive away from Yorknew, and they had a set curfew of course. The three of them vowed to hang out at least three more times before winter break came to an end, and Kurapika would be looking forward to it every day until they saw each other again.

In the meantime, he was slowly beginning to drown in a misery that had grabbed at him throughout the entire day.

Once his friends left, he made sure nobody was in the bathroom. He then slipped into one of the stalls, slammed it shut, and the second he did so, he wept.

He had finally let himself think about what was truly bothering him, and even though it pained him to do so, these remembrances and tears were long overdue because he had forced himself to block them out for so long.

He remembered that at the age of eleven, his mother died, the cause of death Kurapika refused to try and recall, and his father fled. Then even worse, his father’s side of the family, cousins, brothers, sisters and all, turned their backs on Kurapika as well and eventually left too. All of this progressed throughout the month of December, and into early January. It was a tragic mystery. His mother’s side kept contact with him, and often visited, but other events unfolded that eventually brought that to a halt. Kurapika didn’t want to think about those details, either. Not while he was already hurt enough.

He thought about that movie. The reason why it hit him so hard was because of the film’s subject matter - death. Death, and its sorrowful relevance, and caring for those you loved most. Kurapika wasn’t sure if it would have been better or worse to see a Christmas movie instead.

Christmases with his family tended to be quite rocky. They were either good, or just plain bad. The good ones were always because of his mom, and usually were when his father was away on some business trip, which was seldom. Kurapika could only remember three Christmases that only involved him, his mom, her mom, and a few family friends. No mean dad to be found. And if he wasn’t there, his equally as terrible brothers and sisters definitely weren’t.

Kurapika had blocked these things out for years. He didn’t bother celebrating or even acknowledging the holidays. He just went through the motions, read books as much as he pleased once his father left, and grew to hate the sight of snow. His father was fond of snow, and his mother was not. His father thought reading to be useless, his mother was an aspiring author. He would have rather been more like his mom, to put it simply. He already was, still remaing that way as he got older. And for that, he was glad.

But then, he met Killua and Gon. Melody. _Leorio._ And she gave him a wonderful job. He grew older, around better people, and soon, became accustomed to a different way of living, one that he realized felt nicer. Since he had blocked out the memories, and completely shut out the trauma and anger that riddled him at such a young age, he didn’t really know why everything around him seemed to change so drastically. He just knew the newfound feeling of normalcy was foreign to him. It was a better change in pace. The people that surrounded him actually wanted him, and never leaved him, save for one.

 _That’s why the breakup hurt so bad._ He thought as his chest heaved, and he attempted to stifle the cries he’d been holding in for too long.

“That’s why it all hurt so fucking bad.” He said out loud, that time.

He rubbed his face with his hands slowly, his thoughts and emotions plaguing him unlike they’d ever had. He knew he needed answers. Answers he still, to this day, never got. Answers as to how his mom died and why half of his God-forsaken family just up and _left._

Kurapika’s tears eventually stopped flowing, and with puffy eyes he gazed at nothing.

 _No,_ he thought. _That chapter of my life is done._

Those painful thoughts were then adjourned. He couldn’t focus on life’s cruelties when he was _just_ seeing the good things it had to offer.

So Kurapika wiped his eyes, blew his nose into a piece of toilet paper, and stepped out of the stall.

And lo and behold, there stood Kuroro. At the sink, facing the mirror.

They caught each other’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection, and Kurapika wondered in a brief moment of panic if the man had been in there the whole time.

The two said nothing to each other, and Kurapika simply averted his gaze before washing his hands hurriedly. Kuroro eyed him closely as he dried them off, pulled on his coat and gloves, then adjusted the scarf around his neck before brushing passed Kuroro and walking out.

He sniffled. The grand windows in the movie theater showcased the snow outside, which was getting heavier by the second. The blond thought for a moment that he would have wanted rain, instead. The smell of rain was almost therapeutic, for him. He loved listening to the pitter patter of it when he was little, when the water would pelt the roof of his house and then lightning would strike brilliantly across the sky, followed by the drumming of thunder.

He hated the snow to begin with, and now that his mood had drastically changed, he hated it even more.

Rain and snow were both terribly cold, but at least rain was cleansing, in a sense. He needed a cleansing, or perhaps a cleansed mind. He needed his negative intrusive thoughts to stop haunting him. He needed someone who could fill the void he felt so deep in his heart. He needed something good and wonderful to rain down on his life, even if he had his friends and his job. Something was missing.

He needed the damn rain, not cigarettes.

Kurapika shoved his hands into his pockets, gripping onto his car keys. He looked up, then scowled. Over the span of time he’d been in the theater, the snow had completely covered his windows and the top of his car.

He unlocked the door then reached for the ice scraper in his glove box. _This won’t do much, but screw it. I need to get home._

A pack of cigarettes was there too, but he didn’t notice it at first glance.

He began scraping and dusting off as much of the snow as he could, mainly the chunks that covered his view from the driver’s seat. He progressed onto the passenger’s seat, though not as much, then the rearview windows, and then the back window.

Only when he finished and reached inside to put the ice scraper away, did he notice the pack.

His heart throbbed, and his fingers shook.

_I need the rain, not the cigarettes._

He reached for the pack, and took one out.

_I need something else to give me happiness, not the cigarettes._

Had he really expected himself to give them up so easily?

He pulled out the lighter that had stayed in his glove box as well, and lit the cursed thing as he leaned against his car.

Kurapika took a long, much-needed drag, and exhaled the smoke into the cold.

It wasn’t long before a figure emerged in the corner of his eye. They seemed to walk on, and then linger there for a moment, and Kurapika took another drag without looking at whoever it was.

And then they tapped him on the shoulder.

Kurapika jerked to his side, a sharp, “What?” being the first thing that came out of his mouth along with a puff of smoke.

Kuroro looked a bit taken aback by the blond’s snappy tone, but he had the ghost of a neutral smile still on his face. He held an umbrella over his head. _Jet black._

Kurapika considered saying sorry for the sudden lash-out, but he shook his head at the idea. He didn’t even know this man, and he doubted the guy even cared.

“Your friend left these in the bathroom.” The ravenette spoke. Kurapika looked without care, turned away, then immediately looked again. Kuroro held Gon’s earmuffs in his hand.

Kurapika looked at Kuroro and then at the earmuffs, gently taking them from the other and setting them inside of his car. “Oh, um, thank you.” He said as evenly as he could.

The two men stood there for what felt like forever, Kurapika’s free hand resting atop his open car door while the other hand aided him in his self-indulgent way of falling apart. Kuroro studied the cigarette, and the man who smoked it. There followed an almost dramatic moment of silence before it was cut short.

“Don’t you have drugs to deal?” Kurapika couldn’t resist saying. He didn’t even mean it as some sort of light-hearted joke, but he wanted the guy to take a hint and leave. And what better way to do it than give him shit for his reputation?

To Kurapika’s unpleasant surprise, Kuroro let out a laugh. Not a loud, obnoxious one, but a quiet yet joyous one. It was genuine.

“Wh...What’s so funny?” Kurapika asked slowly, the hand with his cigarette hanging still in the air. Kuroro smiled at him, then looked off into the distance, not particularly focused on any one thing.

“You. You’re funny.” He said. Kurapika squinted at him. “I’m not trying to be.”

Kuroro laughed some more. _This bastard,_ Kurapika thought. He took another drag, then blew it out to the side. _If I were any more pissed off right now, I’d gladly blow it into his smug face._

“I’m being serious! Why aren’t you robbing anyone right now, or-or starting some sort of unnecessary street fight?” The blond questioned, tense shoulders beginning to relax a little. Good, he was calming down some.

Kuroro grinned then peered up toward the heavens, eyes searching for the stars as he pondered his next response. “You truly think that’s what I do on the daily?” He asked this time, still looking into the universe above him.

Kurapika shifted the weight from one foot to the other, both arms dangling over the top of the car door now.

“I mean, can you blame me? Can you blame anyone who thinks so?” He said. He gestured with his hands as he talked.

Kuroro’s eyes fell to his, and Kurapika looked at him expectantly.

“You’re right, I can’t. But you, at least, have to consider that perhaps there’s a bigger picture that you aren’t seeing. Or a whole set of pages to the cover of this book that you and everyone else in this town have so freely judged.” Kuroro responded calmly, eyes searching the other’s for… something.

Kurapika pulled something of a frown and a look of disagreement.

“Trust me, I’ve seen the bigger picture, and it’s plastered on the front page of the newspapers almost every month.” He shot, taking another drag. Kuroro mused as he seemed to dismiss the topic and looked back up toward the sky. He’d be wasting his time trying to reason with the blond, for now, anyway. There was always a better moment to enlighten someone, and this wasn’t quite the moment, Kuroro decided.

Then, it started snowing. Again.

“Of course.” Kurapika complained, cheeks burning scarlet from the cold. He felt the other man’s eyes on him.

“Not a fan of the snow?” Kuroro asked.

“Not at all. I can’t stand it,” The shorter one answered bitterly. “I prefer the rain, or the sun.”

Kuroro nodded in understanding.

“I love the rain too. But,” The criminal seemed to grow solemn for a moment, his gaze flickering to the ground. “It can’t rain all the time.”

Kurapika’s eyes shot to him, pulling back from the drag he was about to take. Something familiar rang through the man’s words, like he’d just heard that same sentence being said not too long before. It nagged at Kurapika’s mind. _I’ve recently heard that somewhere._

Not only did the familiarity stand out to him, but there seemed to be some sort of deeper relevance to Kuroro’s words, like he said them for a reason and not just to say them.

Said man gave Kurapika a side-smile, and it was a rather grim one, too. His steel grey eyes held a new sort of gleam, and it wasn’t the same kind Kurapika normally saw during the few times he’d spoken to the man.

Kuroro then looked as though he were ready to say something more, something about the cigarette in Kurapika’s fingers maybe, as he looked at it thoughtfully. The sadness still remained in his eyes. But, he let whatever words he wanted to speak fall away, and he turned around, walking out of the theater parking lot and disappearing into the streets of a beloved city.

Kurapika felt almost moved, in a way.

But, he soon snapped out of his reverie and took one final drag before snuffing the cig out. He tried and tried and tried to remember where exactly he’d heard those same words being spoken. He needed to figure it out, as it would most likely make him lose sleep if he didn’t.

And then, it hit him.

It was spoken in The Crow, the movie he and Kuroro had both just seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just know that I will be littering this fic with 90s movie and song references! (Given that it's set in the 90s, of course, but I can't help myself!!!)
> 
> Also, Phinks has a mullet. A concept to think about.


End file.
